


Taking the Lead

by soongtypeprincess



Series: South Downs Retirement [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, At least he tries, Blow Jobs, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Retirement, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Smut, So much smut, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens), but aziraphale is patient, he needs practice, mysti what are these tags, this angel just wants it gewd, top!Crowley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 04:18:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soongtypeprincess/pseuds/soongtypeprincess
Summary: “Angel, do I not satisfy you?”“Oh, darling.” His angel cupped his face and kissed him. “Of course you do! I just thought...maybe for once, we can change it up a bit. Only if you want to.”“If you want me to, then I will,” he told him. “I would have done this a long time ago, too, actually.”





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elektratios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektratios/gifts).



> I stink at summaries, but this has lots of good smut and cute domesticity things. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS.

Aziraphale stepped through the bedroom door and pulled his tartan dressing gown tighter as he crept to the bed.

Crowley was on his stomach and hugging his pillow as he snored, but stirred when the mattress shifted.

He rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes as Aziraphale laid a hand on his chest.

“Dear?”

Crowley only grunted in reply. 

“Wake up. You’re going to sleep away this beautiful morning.”

Crowley finally opened his eyes and grinned as he patted his hand.

“What’s the time?”

“Almost eight,” Aziraphale said with a smile. “Our first morning in our cottage.”

“Hmm,” Crowley sighed, squeezing his hand. 

“What would you like to do today?”

“Sleep.”

“Oh, come now, love.”

“We’re retired, angel.” Crowley groaned as he stretched. “You should try to sleep more, too, you know.”

“I don’t really care for it. It makes me quite groggy.”

“You just need more practice.”

“We need to go into town for essentials,” he told him. “Perhaps we could stop by that nursery on the way home from the shops and you could pick out new plants. I was thinking we could clean out the greenhouse and plant vegetables and--”

“Angel, I just woke up,” Crowley said with a grin. 

“Precisely! You’ve been in bed too long. Now get up, breakfast will be ready soon.”

“Come here first.” He tugged on the sleeve of his dressing gown and pulled Aziraphale closer.

“Oh...dearest,” Aziraphale giggled against his lips as they kissed.

Crowley put his arms around his neck and took a deep breath. “Mmm,” he moaned. “You smell _sweet_ , my angel.”

“Don’t try to charm me back into bed, you old serpent.”

“No, really, you do.” He sniffed once more as he stroked his blonde hair. “You smell like berries...and sugar...oh, you smell delicious.”

“That'll be the raspberry scones in the oven,” he explained, kissing his cheek.

Crowley gently took hold of the sash of his dressing gown. “Surely,” he purred, “you know the risk of smelling so appetizing before waking a hungry beast.”

Aziraphale tutted at him. “Yes, love, you’re quite the beast.”

“It can be dangerous if a sweet snack like you got too close.”

“I’m not a snack, dear boy,” he purred in his ear. “I’m a _banquet_.”

Crowley growled as he pressed his lips harder against his neck. “You’re such a _bastard_.”

Aziraphale felt his teeth nibble at him and he sighed. “Darling, the scones will burn.”

“How long till they’re ready?”

“I’ve put a timer on.”

“It can be a quick one.”

“Do you want to have breakfast or not?”

“I intend to,” Crowley said as he untied the sash. “In bed. Right now. With you.”

Crowley put one of his hands under the bed sheet and swiped his tongue across his bottom lip as he stroked his erection.

Aziraphale couldn’t stop his sly grin. “You filthy boy,” he scolded, tying his sash. 

“I love when you call me filthy.” Crowley’s eyes were now closed as he continued to stroke his cock.

“Crowley, the scones…”

“You’ve got a timer on, remember?”

Aziraphale sighed as he shifted on the mattress to face him better, and reached under the sheet as he put his other hand through Crowley’s hair. 

“You’re indecent.”

“Yesss, angel,” he breathed.

“A depraved, foul little demon who thinks he should have his way.” He squeezed a handful of his short, red hair and pulled his head back.

Crowley grunted at the pain and gasped when he felt Aziraphale’s warm palm grip his cock.

“Angel...oh!”

“Contemptible, base creature.” He leaned in closer and his lips hovered over Crowley’s. “How dare you insist that I pleasure you when we have errands?”

“Aziraphale…”

He pulled Crowley’s head back further and quickened his pace.

“Ah!” he cried out, his hands clawing at the fitted sheet. “Fuck…”

“What a dirty mouth you have. Naughty, vile thing; look at you on your back, offering your cock to me like some brazen tart.”

Crowley put his hands by his head on the pillow and looked up at him. “Angel, please.”

“It’s been a while since you’ve been over my knee,” Aziraphale whispered, lightly kissing his chin. “I think you’re due.”

Crowley lifted his hips. “Ohhh, angel...I’m going to--”

Aziraphale released his cock, cutting off his impending orgasm, and Crowley groaned in frustration, turning his head away.

“Eyes on me, dearest.” He waited a moment for him to relax and then gripped his cock again, moving even faster.

Crowley’s hips bucked at the sudden sensation.

“Angellll….” he whimpered.

Aziraphale smirked and took his hand out of his hair to cradle his head. “You enjoy this, don’t you, darling?”

“Yesssssss…”

“Having me control when you come? That is, if I decide to _let_ you.”

“Love...”

“Be polite, now.”

Crowley let out a shudder. “Oh...pleasssse, angel...may I come?”

“Well, I don’t know. You’re such a _filthy_ boy already. I don’t think you need to.”

He released his cock again, making Crowley whine.

“Aziraphale, please!”

He felt lips on his forehead and his cock was handled yet again.

“How much do you want it?” Aziraphale whispered.

“Very much,” Crowley whimpered. “Pleassssse, love!”

Aziraphale bit his lip as he pumped his cock faster. “Ask me again.”

Crowley’s hips were hovering off the mattress now as he was under complete control.

“May I come? Oh....angel, pleassse, let me come!”

Aziraphale kissed him gently on the lips. “Yes, my darling, you---”

There was a sudden buzzing noise from the kitchen and Aziraphale released his cock and stood from the bed.

“Oh! That’ll be the scones.” 

He kissed Crowley’s forehead again.

“I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee, dear. Don’t dawdle, now.” Without another glance, he walked out of the bedroom.

Crowley put his face in his pillow and growled as he kicked the sheets off the bed. He bolted off the mattress and stomped into the lavatory to finish himself.

\--------------------

“That wasn’t very nice, you know?”

Crowley wasn’t much for eating, but he helped himself to two whole scones, not leaving one crumb behind of the scrumptious pastry. After his third cup of coffee, he gathered their empty plates and set them in the sink.

Aziraphale smirked. “I told you I had scones in the oven, dear. We can continue later.”

“Oh, we’ll continue, angel,” Crowley said with a sly smile. “I can show you just how annoying all that really is.”

“Hm. I could have sworn you were enjoying yourself, the way you were begging and writhing about.”

“Shut up.” Crowley bent down and kissed Aziraphale’s cheek as he took his empty coffee cup. “What shall we have for supper, then?” he asked. “I’ll cook you anything you want.”

“You’re not sore with me, my love?”

Crowley giggled. “Only slightly annoyed, but I’ll have my moment with you soon, angel. You just wait.”

Aziraphale grinned.“Hm, dinner. Well, I haven’t given it much thought. My mind's been reeling all morning about setting up my new study.”

“Ngk.”

“Then we have that vulgar statue of yours.”

“They’re wrestling. I’ve told you this a thousand times.”

“Wrestling or not, it’s going in your studio.”

“I thought we could place it in the den. Be a great conversation piece for company.”

“That’s just it, dear,” Aziraphale told him. “I don’t want the children to see it!”

“They’re teenagers now.”

“Exactly!”

\-------------------

“No sign of sushi, I’m afraid,” Crowley said as they cruised around the square in town. 

He parked in front of a plant nursery as Aziraphale sighed. “No bother, dear,” he said. “Besides, it can be a treat when we visit London again.” 

They got out of the car and stepped through the nursery entrance and were greeted by a vast array of ivy, fruit trees, plant starters, and flowers.

“Oh, love,” Aziraphale said, smiling. “Look at all the variety. Where do you want to start?”

“We can start with a basket first,” he said, picking up a mesh one with metal handles.

“Allow me.” Aziraphale took the basket from him and hung it from his arm.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m happy to help. You pick, I carry.”

Crowley beamed at him and squeezed his elbow. “Well, since you want to be a good helper, why don’t you pick a plant for yourself?”

“Oh, dearest, I’m not that good with plants.”

“Weren’t you a gardener for eleven years?” he asked, picking up a small air plant and examining it.

“Well...if you must know...I may have used a bit of magic to keep the Dowlings’ garden pristine.”

“No shit, you used magic. No one has daisies that size.”

“Because daisies are my favorite and I got carried away.”

The back seat and boot of the Bentley were soon filled with different ivys, one of which was called Devil’s Ivy, which made Crowley grin mischievously as Aziraphale rolled his eyes. This and a spider plant were in a hanging basket for the back porch, and there were a few succulents, as well. Aloe vera was a must, according to Aziraphale, just in case the children got sunburned on the beach during one of their visits.

They also stocked up on herbs, vegetable seeds, and a few starters to plant in the open garden they planned to make, as well as tomato plants, cabbage, and strawberries for the greenhouse.

Aziraphale chose a small red bromeliad to have for his own.

“It’d look great by your study window,” Crowley pointed out. “Easy to care for, too. Just don’t coddle it; it won't do it any good.”

“It's my plant and I am going to care for it how I like, thank you.” 

They pulled up to their cottage as clouds were forming over the sunny afternoon.

“Looks like rain,” Crowley said as he put the Bentley into park.

“Why don’t we unload everything and I can make lunch?”

Crowley snapped his fingers and the plants disappeared.

“What did you do?”

“I unloaded everything,” he smiled. “Don’t worry; they’re all stocked in the sun room and your plant’s in your study.”

Aziraphale tutted, but grinned. 

Tiny drops of rain began to patter on the windscreen.

“Let’s go inside before it pours. What do you want for lunch? I assume our groceries are put away, as well.”

“They are, angel, but I’ll be having a nap. You can join me, if you like.”

Aziraphale opened his door. “I think I’ll get started with unpacking my books.”

“Oh, come on, angel,” Crowley said as he got out of the car and followed him into the cottage. “What did I tell you about sleeping more?”

“I’ll sleep tonight.” He took off his coat and handed it to Crowley, who hung it on one of the pegs by the door. 

“You said that last night.”

“I would like to arrange my study, dear.”

“We have all the time in the world to arrange.”

Aziraphale was already _in_ his study, however, bending over to pick up a box of books. 

It was gently pulled out of his hands by an invisible force and he sighed. “Dear, please…”

Crowley approached him, casually moving the levitating box aside and letting it slowly descend to the floor.

He took off his sunglasses and put his arms around Aziraphale’s waist, leaning into his neck and caressing him with the tip of his nose.

“Come lie with me for a bit,” he whispered.

“Crowley.”

“Just for a bit.” He kissed his temple. “If you do, I’ll help you sort your books.”

Aziraphale grinned and kissed his shoulder. “You will?”

“Yeah, why not? S’raining...I can’t plant anything right now.” He squeezed him. “Wasn’t going to set up the greenhouse till tomorrow, anyway.”

“Alright, but just for a few minutes.”

Crowley took his hand and led him to the bedroom. He unfolded the green tartan blanket that used to reside on the old sofa, and curled under it as Aziraphale lay next to him.

“Get under here with me.”

“You said to ‘lie with you,’ dear,” Aziraphale said. “So I’ll just lie here.”

“You’re being cruel.”

“No, I’m being cautious.”

“Scared you’ll get caught in my clutches again?”

“I believe you were in _my_ clutches this morning, dearest.”

Crowley scooted closer to him. “You won’t grant me just a few minutes of cuddling? I would do it for you; you’re just being _harsh_.”

He knew he was teasing, but he was also right. Crowley loves indulging him and, Aziraphale agreed that, yes, sometimes he uses that doting to his advantage.

He sank further into his pillow and pulled the blanket over him.

Crowley grinned and rested his head on his angel’s chest. He let out a long, relaxed sigh as Aziraphale softly carded his fingers through his hair.

“This is only for a few minutes,” he reminded him.

“Ngk.”

They slept for two hours before Aziraphale awoke to realize that he completely forgot to have lunch.

\------------

“So where do you want what, angel?”

“I’m putting my Wildes next to my desk, in their case, so no dust gets on them. Everything else is already categorized in the boxes, so I don’t mind which shelf they’re on, dear.”

An hour passed and not even half of his books were unpacked. Crowley took great care in pulling them out of the boxes and placing them on the new shelves.

“Doesn’t seem like you’ll have a lot of room,” he remarked as he emptied the last of the box filled with yet more old atlases.

“Yes, I’ve noticed.” Aziraphale was arranging items on his desk, his pens, an old feather quill in an empty ink bottle, a few magnifying glasses, and white gloves he used to peruse old pages and manuscripts. 

“You could miracle more space, you know.”

Aziraphale straightened a picture frame on the top of his desk. Inside the frame was a picture of The Them which showed Adam in a tire swing with Dog in his arms and his three friends holding the tire behind him. He grinned at the photo before tossing aside another empty box.

“Let’s see how far we go first.” He sighed and rubbed his hands together. “I think I’d like some cocoa. Would you like something, my love?”

“Cup of tea would be nice.”

“Right.” Aziraphale moved past him, stroking his hair on the way out of the study. “Won’t be a moment.” 

Crowley grunted as he pulled another box next to him and opened it. Underneath several first editions of _Oeuvres de Moliere_ , he came upon small paperbacks that were stacked with their spines up.

He ran his fingers over the worn spines and read one of the titles.

“ _The Pensive Gentleman_.” he whispered. “Eh?”

He moved to the other books next to it. “ _Handsome and Haunting_ ... _Pirate’s Fire...Highland Leather?”_

Crowley pulled this book out of the box and his eyes grew wide. “Oh, my.”

On the cover of the book was a muscular man wearing only a kilt with a blue and yellow tartan. It was frayed at the hem and blowing in the wind revealing knee-high leather boots with straps and buckles. The Scotsman was gripping the reins of a brown Clydesdale horse whose mane was just as ginger as its owner’s.

“What in all of eternity?” 

He opened the book to the middle section and read the first paragraph he saw and gasped. “You naughty angel,” he said with an amused smile. 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Aziraphale was humming to himself as he poured hot water from the kettle into Crowley’s favorite tea mug. He then set it down to get milk out of the fridge to warm up for his cocoa.

As he was pouring the milk into a saucepan, Crowley entered the kitchen and leaned against the counter behind him, holding the book.

“ _His hands gripped my hips and pushed me against a bale of hay,”_ he read. _“Magnus’s breath was hot against my neck and his bold member stabbed me in my middle from underneath his kilt._ ”

Aziraphale nearly spilled the milk as his eyes grew wide in horror. He set down the jug and turned to Crowley as his cheeks began to flush.

Crowley, however, continued to read with a wicked grin.

“ _‘My Lord,’ Magnus said, his green eyes piercing into mine. ‘I want you, my Lord. Do not marry that Englishwoman, I beg you, for you are mine. Come with me! Let me steal you away into the moors. There I can take you fully, under the stars._ ’”

“Where did you find that?” Aziraphale demanded.

Crowley continued, “ _‘Oh, my love,’ I said as I pressed my hand against his pulsing cock, where he proceeded to rut against me.’_ ”

“Crowley, please put down the book.”

“In a moment, angel,” he giggled. “It’s getting good.”

Aziraphale stomped over to him but Crowley walked away as he tried to take the book.

“ _‘If I don’t marry her, then my father will disown me,’ I told him, pulling up his kilt. ‘I do desire you, Magnus, but I cannot break my bloodline!’_ ”

“Hand over the book right now!”

He rounded the sofa as Crowley bounded over it and back into the kitchen where he chased him around the table.

“ _‘I raised his kilt over his prick and wrapped my fingers around it, and he sighed desperately. ‘My Lord, I beg you give me release or I shall die!’_ ”

“Crowley!”

He followed him into the sunroom, and Crowley shot out of the patio doors and closed them behind him. He leaned into him so that Aziraphale couldn’t push them open.

“ _Magnus rutted into my hand like an animal driven mad!”_ he shouted over his shoulder.

“Those are my private books!”

Aziraphale snapped his fingers and the book disappeared from Crowley’s hand. He turned and entered the cottage to find that he didn’t have it.

“Where is it?” he asked.

“Where’s what?” He crossed his arms.

“The book, angel! What’d you do with it?”

“Oh, well wouldn’t you know it? That book doesn’t exist now.”

Crowley laughed. “You willed a published book out of existence?”

Aziraphale huffed. “I don’t think I’ll be needing your help unpacking anymore. You’ll just continue looking where you’re not supposed to!”

“You stuck them in a box with your regular collection. How was I _not_ going to find them?”

“I would think you would see them and just let them be!"

“I was teasing you!”

Aziraphale frowned at him, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

He approached him with open arms. “My angel. My wonderful, forgiving angel.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Oh, come on.”

Crowley hugged him even though he remained stiff. “Don’t get all flustered, darling. So, you’ve got all these skimpy romance novels; you’re not the only one in the world who reads them.”

When he didn’t reply, he kissed his forehead. Then, while still embracing him, he conjured another book and held it behind Aziraphale.

He cleared his throat and read the back cover. “ _Kenton Duke, the wily pirate from the South Seas, is wanted for theft and kidnapping._ ”

Aziraphale whined. “Crowley, please.”

“ _It will take a clever captain to pursue him to take back the Queen’s treasure. But will the captain become a prisoner...a prisoner of the Pirate Duke’s lust?_ ”

He giggled when Aziraphale groaned.

“Okay, love. Here.” He pulled away and handed the book to him. “Can I ask why you have these?”

Aziraphale hugged the book to his chest. “I found them.”

“You found them?”

“Yes, at a car boot sale I went to back in 1987. There was a very nice gentleman there who was selling them and he gave me a bargain.”

“How many do you have?”

Aziraphale hesitated. “I started with six. Then, after I read one, I quickly read the others...and found I enjoyed them. Quite a lot. So, I seeked them out. I don’t have many of them. Maybe...forty of them. And some of them are older than this one.”

“Forty?” Crowley asked, stunned. “Where are the others?”

“I suppose they’re still in the shop. These were, apparently, packed into the car accidentally.”

He glanced at Crowley, who was still grinning. 

“What?” he asked.

Crowley shrugged. “I never knew angels had fantasies.”

“Who said I was fantasizing?”

“Well, you’ve read these and have kept them around so--”

“Because I enjoy them, Crowley. You have your Golden Girls program and I have my romances!”

“Fair enough, angel. I’m just curious.” He reached out and stroked Aziraphale’s chin. “So...am I the Scotsman or the pirate?”

The angel’s cheeks grew warm again and he turned and walked back to his study.

“Your tea should be ready now.” The door shut behind him and Crowley stood outside it.

He softly knocked. “Angel.”

“It's going to get cold,” came Aziraphale’s voice from behind the door.

Crowley heard him pull his desk chair out to sit in it, and then he sighed as he went into the kitchen to drink his tea.


	2. Chapter Two

Aziraphale gazed at the books on his new shelves and then looked at the remaining boxes that were stacked against the wall by the window.

“I’ve barely made a dent,” he muttered.

Crowley hadn’t knocked at the door again after the embarrassing debacle several hours ago. The sun was setting and crickets chirped from the tall grass in the thicket behind the cottage. 

Aziraphale opened the door and called out “Crowley?”

He stepped into the hallway and went to the master bedroom to see if he was busy with Nap Number Two. The bed was empty, however, so he went to his studio.

“Dear?” he said as he looked around at the stacked blank canvases and unopened paint kits.

He glanced at the “wrestling” statue that had been moved to one of the far corners of the room and he pursed his lips triumphantly. 

“Let’s hope you stay there,” he told it before heading to the kitchen.

“Darling? Where are you?”

Aziraphale noticed that Crowley’s mug was in the sink and the milk and cocoa mix had been put away. 

“I’m sorry for overreacting,” he said to the empty kitchen. “I’m alright now.”

There came a low humming noise from the backyard and it slowly turned into a majestic, but feral sound that grew and echoed around the cottage.

Aziraphale frowned. “Are those…?”

He followed the noise to the sun room, passing by the untouched plants, and he stopped at the French doors and looked outside.

“Bagpipes? It can’t be.”

He threw open the doors and stepped onto the patio and the pipes grew louder.

“Crowley? Are you doing that?” 

Silly question, really, he thought to himself. Of course it was Crowley. They didn’t live near anyone unless there happened to be a traveling piper trotting around South Downs.

He sensed movement from the thicket and stared ahead of him, squinting against the setting sun’s rays.

Aziraphale’s jaw dropped when he saw the flash of tartan greet him.

Crowley stepped from the thicket and approached him.

The wind picked up and blew through his straightened crimson hair that was long and cascading past his bare shoulders and chest. A blue and yellow tartan kilt was secured around his slender hips with a thick black leather belt. The hem of the kilt was frayed and slapped around Crowley’s knee-high strapped boots.

The bagpipes ceased and the only sound between them was the chirping of crickets.

Crowley stepped closer to the patio steps and said, in a Scottish accent, “My Lord Fell. I couldn’t keep myself from you. I crave your hands upon me and my soul cries out for you.”

Aziraphale stood still, his mouth hanging slack as he drank in the sight of him. The boots, the hair, the  _ tartan _ . 

He placed a hand on the railing and carefully stepped down to the first step. His other hand was clutching his waistcoat and, despite the cool wind, his cheeks were flushing.

“Oh…” he finally breathed. “Oh, Crowley.”

“Shhh. Anthony, my angel.”

Aziraphale realized, after another silent awe-struck moment, what Crowley’s intentions were and he nodded.

“Yes, of course,” he replied, his voice shaking. He let go of his waistcoat and smoothed out the fabric as he grinned. “I see. We’re, um...we’re doing  _ that _ , then.”

He cleared his throat. “Anthony, you shouldn’t have come. My father has put guards all around the estate. You’re sure to be caught and--”

“I will slay anyone that comes between us, my Lord,” Crowley interrupted him as he climbed onto another step. “I crave every part of you. I need you,  _ constantly _ .”

Aziraphale sighed as Crowley took his hands. “I am to be wed on the morrow, Anthony. Our love cannot be. My father will disown me and the bloodline will be severed!”

“Ride away with me, Lord! Do not marry the Englishwoman! She will never love you as I do, nor will she  _ satisfy _ you the way I know how.”

He moved onto the patio and pressed Aziraphale’s hands to the front of his kilt, and his breath hitched when they cupped his growing erection. “Ah, my beautiful Lord. Do not continue to make me beg.”

Aziraphale sighed once more and leaned into him, his lips floating against his. “My Anthony. I know I mustn’t but...I  _ yearn _ for you. I lie in bed and picture you above me, thrusting into me like a wild beast.”

Crowley swallowed hard. “Come away with me and tame that beast!”

“Oh, my warrior!” 

Their mouths pressed into each other in a hungry fury and Crowley moved him backward against the French doors which suddenly transformed into a bale of hay.

Aziraphale whimpered as his back pressed into the soft straw, and pushed his tongue into his mouth.

Crowley had a firm grip of his backside and Aziraphale’s hands ran through his flowing hair and down to his shoulders, to his chest, his stomach, and over the leather belt on his hips.

Crowley pulled away and traced his lips down his jaw and into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck to the spot that always drove him to the edge.

He placed his lips there and sucked hard.

Aziraphale squeezed his arms around him and yelled. “Ah! Yes, my love! Oh, God!” His head was spinning as he held onto Crowley’s shoulders.

Crowley lifted him off the ground and held his legs around him and continued to suck that sweet spot on his neck.

He was writhing against him now as he pulled a handful of Crowley’s hair, making him groan.

“Darling,” he purred against his angel’s neck. “Your skin tastes divine, my Lord.”

“Oh, God, Anthony!”

“You are my gift from Heaven. Sweeter than any celestial nectar.”

“Make love to me, Anthony. Show me how untamed you can be.”

“You would give yourself to me, my Lord?” he whispered against his cheek. “You would let me  _ deflower you? _ ”

Aziraphale let out a loud sigh and kissed him again. “Yes, my dear. In the wilderness and under the stars...please...my heart has always been yours. I willingly give you my body.” He loosened his bow tie and threw it to the ground as he unwrapped his legs from Crowley’s hips. 

He peeled off his waistcoat and pulled him closer by his leather belt. “Have me,” he growled against his lips.

“Mmph, Angel, I---” he was cut off by Aziraphale’s tongue as it invaded his mouth once more. 

“Consume me with your animalistic lust!” He cupped Crowley’s face, kissing him again. “Overwhelm me... _ take me! _ ”

He unbuttoned his shirt halfway before turning away from him to press the front of his body against the bale of hay.

“Angel, what are you doing?” Crowley asked, confused and dropping his Scottish accent.

“Ravage me,” Aziraphale moaned.

“What?!”

He reached behind him and pulled him closer by the kilt. When Crowley was directly behind him, he lifted the front of it and grabbed his cock, making him gasp.

“Angel!”

“Fuck me, Crowley. I can’t take it any longer.”

“I didn’t think we would...I mean...”

Aziraphale looked over his shoulder at him. “What? Didn’t think what?”

Crowley gulped at the irritated tone in his voice. “Wait...you want  _ me _ to…?”

Aziraphale turned and frowned at him. “Yes, of course I do!”

“I thought you were going to ravage  _ me _ ! I didn’t think I would have to---”

“Then why did you dress like this?” 

“I thought this is what you wanted, angel! The strong Highland warrior who whisks you away across the moors!”

“Yes, dear, and the Highland warrior does the ravaging _! _ ”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that because I never finished the book, and I won’t ever now because  _ someone _ willed the bloody thing out of existence!”

Aziraphale huffed and picked up his tie and waistcoat. “You are impossible!” 

“Impossible? I worked bloody hard on this get-up! I even added a bit of horse smell for historical accuracy!”

“Yes, I was going to mention that. Not a very nice feature, by the way, to smell like horse dung when role-playing a fantasy!”

“I don’t smell like horse dung! It’s supposed to be sweat!”

“Well, whatever that smell is, it’s not at all attractive.”

“What the bloody heaven do you want then, angel?” Crowley said, shrugging hard. 

“I want you to _ take the lead _ for once! What’s so wrong with that?”

Crowley was struck silent and stared at him until he cleared his throat, saying. “Take the lead?”

Aziraphale calmed himself and sighed. “I’m sorry, darling. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but yes...it’s something I’d like to try.”

Crowley stepped closer. “I don’t understand. What  _ exactly _ do you want to try?”

Aziraphale looked up at him, his eyes bright. “I want you to...well...be in control of me. Be rough, give me commands, have me be at your will.” He traced his finger down Crowley’s bare chest. “Fuck me...like I fuck you.”

Crowley’s eyes widened and his breath hitched. “I, um...I see.” After a beat, he gulped and asked. “You want me to be like...your pirate, then? Take you prisoner and all that?”

A small grin passed over Aziraphale’s lips and he shrugged. “You don’t  _ have _ to be a pirate, dear. But...if it will help…”

“Do  _ you _ want it?”

“Crowley…”

“Angel, do I not satisfy you?”

“Oh, darling.” His angel cupped his face and kissed him. “Of course you do! I just thought...maybe for once, we can change it up a bit. Only if you want to.”

“If you want me to, then I will,” he told him. “I would have done this a long time ago, too, actually.”

“I know, dear, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Well, we should talk more.”

“You’re right, my love.”

“Don’t be afraid to let me know what you want. I’d do anything for you.”

Aziraphale smiled again. “I know. You do spoil me.”

“You deserve it.”

He rested his forehead against his and stroked his cheek. 

“Shall I become a pirate, then?”

“Not now, dear,” Aziraphale said. “Why don’t you dress for dinner? I’ve decided what I want.”

Crowley lifted his head and grinned at him. “And that is?”

“That lovely pasta you make with lots of butter and Parmesan. And then you top it with fresh parsley.”

“Easy enough. How about I make that bread you like, too?”

Aziraphale gasped softly. “With roasted garlic?”

\----------------------

It was later in the evening and Aziraphale, having changed into his nightshirt, was hanging his clothes in his closet when he heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.

He turned off the closet light and tiptoed to the bed where, underneath the foot of it, he retrieved a sword with a gold hilt. He held it at his side as the footsteps drew closer to the bedroom door.

The silence lasted a full minute before the door was kicked down and Crowley stomped through holding a cutlass.

His hair was short again and he was wearing tight black leather trousers with cuffed leather boots, and a thin cotton shirt clung loosely at his torso as a red scarf cinched the extra fabric around his small waist.

His leather gloves crinkled as he tightened his grip on the sword. “Good evening, Captain Fell!” he greeted. “Did I catch you at an inopportune time?”

He charged at Aziraphale but the angel clipped his sword away with his.

“Not at all, Anthony Black!” he answered. “I’ve been expecting you!”

Crowley’s other gloved hand cupped Aziraphale’s chin and his lips hovered over his. “You’ve never bested me with steel, Captain. Your tongue, on the other hand---”

“Get off me, you villain!” he demanded as he pushed him away.

“I’ve got this ship surrounded, Fell! You’re not going anywhere with that gold.”

“That gold belongs to Her Majesty!”

Aziraphale came at him with his blade, but Crowley dodged it and knocked the sword out of his hand by knocking it with the hilt of his cutlass.

He put his hands up and licked his lips. “Do what you will, Black,” Aziraphale growled. “I’ll never tell you where it’s hidden.”

A chill traveled down his spine as the sound of boots approached him until he could feel Crowley’s breath on his neck. Aziraphale flinched when the cutlass was dropped to the floor with a loud clang.

“About-face, Captain,” Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale slowly turned and locked eyes with his.

“You’ll never make me talk.”

Crowley’s pupils slightly dilated as he grinned.

“I don’t intend to, Captain.” 

Crowley pressed his index finger on Aziraphale’s chest and slowly traced it downward, stopping at his pubic bone.

“On your knees,” he commanded in a dark voice.

Aziraphale kept his eyes on him as he slowly surrendered.

“I already know how well you handle a weapon, Captain,” Crowley said as he unzipped his trousers. “Let’s see how you fare now.”

Aziraphale sighed as he tried hard to resist smiling.

However, he stayed put, not moving as he looked up at him with defiant eyes. He grunted when a gloved hand caught his blonde locks and pulled.

“You’re practically salivating,” Crowley said. 

“You disgusting---AH!” 

Crowley pulled harder on his hair and silenced him. 

“You’re in no position for name calling. Now, put your sharp tongue to good use.”

Aziraphale gulped and reached for Crowley’s waistband. He pulled them down past his hips and moaned softly when his cock was freed.

He leaned in to start, but Crowley stopped him.

“Angel, wait.”

“Mmm, what is it dear?” Aziraphale asked, gently running his hands over his leather-clad thighs.

“We need a safe word, don’t we?”

Aziraphale looked up and grinned. “We’ve never needed one before.”

“True, but that’s because I can take anything you give me.”

“And you assume that I  _ can’t _ with you?”

Crowley giggled. “No, but I want to be cautious.”

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s see...”

“It’s got to be something that can turn me off a moment.”

“How about ‘gavotte?’”

“Bingo---oh, angel!”

He was interrupted by the tip of Aziraphale’s tongue dragging a wet stripe up along his shaft.

Crowley groaned as he kept his hand on Aziraphale’s head and propped his other hand on the wall.

Aziraphale took the head of his cock in his mouth and sucked it hard, massaging the prominent vein with the flat of his tongue.

“Oh, yes, Captain...you are quite good at thisss.”

He recoiled slightly when Aziraphale grazed his teeth along his shaft and he pulled him off of him.

“Do that again and it’s the cat-o-nine-tails! Understand?”

Aziraphale sneered up at him and moaned when his chin was roughly grasped. 

“Answer me, Captain, or I’ll have to restrain you. And you don’t want that.”

“I...I understand…” he sighed.

Crowley pushed his cock back into his mouth and gave him a good thrust. Aziraphale gripped his thighs to brace himself as his captor fucked his hot mouth.

He whimpered and squeezed Crowley’s thighs as the thrusts got faster.

Suddenly, his head was pushed and his lips were forced to the base of his cock. Aziraphale gagged on his tip and Crowley pulled him off of him.

Saliva was dripping from the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth as it hung open.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

He nodded and was forced to deep throat again, and he relaxed more to keep him in longer. He gulped against the tip of Crowley’s cock, making him tremble.

“Fuck.” He loosened his grip on Aziraphale’s hair and stroked his cheek. “You’ve done this before, Captain. What a beautiful mouth you have.”

Aziraphale slowly moved his lips and tongue over his shaft until he pulled away with a soft popping noise.

He licked his lips. “You won’t get your information with kind words, Black.”

Crowley gripped his jaw again and pushed him away from his cock. He shoved a gloved finger into his mouth and Aziraphale sucked at it, greedily.

“Kind, am I?” He put a second finger in his mouth and grinned when he whimpered. “I’ll show you my sort of kindness.”

He slipped his fingers out of his mouth and gripped his arm, roughly lifting him to his feet.

Aziraphale was tossed into the foot of the mattress and Crowley’s arms wrapped around him from behind.

He swiped the tip of his tongue over the nape of his neck, making him sigh. 

“What are you going to do, Anthony?” he whispered, his voice yielding as Crowley’s hands traveled up his chest.

Gloved hands suddenly gripped the collar of his nightshirt and pulled, causing the fabric to tear easily and expose Aziraphale’s chest.

“Crowley!”

“I’ll fix it later, angel!” 

Aziraphale yelped as teeth bit his shoulder and hands wandered up the side slits of the remains of his nightshirt.

“Oh, Anthony,” he moaned as one of Crowley’s gloves took his hard cock and squeezed.

“You  _ have _ been waiting for me, Fell,” he whispered against his neck. 

Aziraphale leaned back into him. “Yes,” he replied. “I want you.”

“Oh, my lovely Captain.” Crowley sucked at his neck. “I’ve traveled many months to get back to you, over stormy seas and treacherous waters. There is no siren song that compares to the beautiful sounds you make when I fuck you.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and grinned as his gloved hand stroked his cock faster and he threw his head back onto his lover’s shoulder.

“Oh...Anthony...I’m going to burst…”

“Not without my permission.”

He released his pulsating cock and Aziraphale sighed in frustration as his growing orgasm subsided. He gritted his teeth and leaned forward, but Crowley pulled him up again.

He pulled off his glove with his teeth and grabbed his cock once more, this time miracling a generous amount of warm lubricant in his palm.

Aziraphale jerked at the sensation and cried out, “Anthony...you scoundrel!”

Crowley giggled against his cheek. “Not so nice, is it, my angel?”

“Touché, my dear,” he sighed with a smirk.

“Mmm, darling, you drive me wild,” Crowley snarled, pumping his fist faster.

“Love, please,” he begged. “I don’t want to come yet!”

“You’d rather I fuck you?”

“Yes!”

“Ask me nicely.”

Aziraphale gulped and whined. “Please fuck me, Crowley!”

His strokes slowed down and he massaged the head of his cock with more lube.

“Again!” he ordered.

“Fuck me! Please!”

He released him again and tore the rest of the nightshirt, tossing it aside along with his gloves.

Crowley snapped his fingers and his costume disappeared.

Aziraphale smiled. “That’s cheating.”

“Do you want me to fuck you or not?” he snarled.

“Who’s stopping who?”

“You’re such a fucking  _ bastard! _ ” 

Crowley bit his shoulder again, making him moan, and then he pushed him over the edge of the bed and pinned his wrists behind his back with one hand.

“Oh, God, darling, yes!” 

“Are you ready for me, my angel?” He applied more lubricant to his cock.

“I’ve been ready for a long time, dear! Please…”

Crowley eased the tip of his cock against his opening and grunted as he pushed in the head.

Aziraphale suddenly gasped. “Oh!”

“What’s wrong?” 

“It’s nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing, love. Talk to me.”

“It’s just uncomfortable right now, darling. It’s been a while.”

Crowley sighed. “Well, what can I do?”

“Just go slow right now, dear.”

“I will.” 

Crowley pushed further into him and Aziraphale’s muscles squeezed his cock. When he was all the way in, he stopped and finally exhaled.

“Blessed be, angel! You’re so tight!” He let go of his wrists and stroked his hair. “How are you?”

Aziraphale nodded again as he gripped the duvet. “I’m okay.”

“Can I continue?”

“Mm, please, yes.”

Crowley slowly pulled his hips back and brought them in again with another grunt. He moved at a steady pace and kept his eyes on Aziraphale.

“How’s that, love?” he asked.

“Wonderful, Crowley,” his angel sighed happily. “Here...hold my leg.”

He lifted his left leg onto the mattress and Crowley grasped his thick thigh. 

“Like this?”

“Perfect, dear.”

Crowley responded by pounding into him hard.

“Oh, fuck yesssss. You feel so bloody good!”

“Oh...Crowley your girth.” Aziraphale’s toes curled. “Wonderful...my darling, yes!”

He positioned his leg higher and suddenly yelped in pain, making Crowley jump.

“Shit, shit! Angel, are you okay?”

He pulled out and cautiously looked him over as he rolled onto his back.

Aziraphale moved to the center of the bed. “Come here; let’s try this.”

Crowley climbed onto the mattress and crawled between his legs. “Are you alright?”

Aziraphale smiled. “Yes, love. Perhaps, a bit more lubricant, though?”

“Of course.” He did so as he looked down at him. “Use your safe word.”

“It’s alright, dearest. I trust you.”

“Oh, angel…”

He applied more lube and pressed in the head of his cock once more. When he was at full length, he kissed him.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“Oh, Crowley. I love you, too.”

He sat up and held up Azirphale’s legs by his thighs, and moved slower this time until his muscles relaxed. 

“Ssshit, angel,” Crowley moaned. “You feel amazing.” 

“You’re doing so well. Oh, love. Keep going.”

“Does my cock feel good inside you, my naughty angel?”

Aziraphale smiled as he keened. “Ahh, yes my darling! Incredible! You’re filling me up in so many delightful ways.”

“Fuck…”

“Harder, dear.”

“Sssure?”

Aziraphale gripped his pillow. “Yes, please!”

His moans grew louder as Crowley hammered his hips against him.

“Ah! Yes, darling! That’s so good!”

“Angel! Oh...oh, love!”

“I love how you fuck me, Crowley!”

“Shit, angel...I don’t think I’m going to last any longer!”

“Then come for me.”

“I want you to come first.”

“It’s okay with me if I don’t.”

“Dammit, angel!”

He paused and laid on top of him to catch his breath and Aziraphale reached up and wiped the sweat from his temple.

“My goodness, love,” he said. “You don’t have to wait for me to finish.”

Crowley looked at him and kissed him as he wrapped his arms around him. He rolled over, keeping him close as he got onto his back and guided him to straddle his hips.

“Finish on top of me,” he said. “I want to see every inch of you as you come.”

“You wicked serpent, you.”

Crowley miracled more lubricant onto his cock and Aziraphale sat on him and gasped.

“Oh!”

“Are you okay, love?”

“Yes...oh, darling. It’s a different sensation, being on top of you...taking you all in...oh, you feel superb.”

Crowley grasped his thighs and lifted his hips to make himself deeper.

“Ride me, angel. I want you to come.”

Aziraphale leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of Crowley’s shoulders, and he slowly bounced on his cock.

“Ga--Sa--fuck! Someone! Oh, damn, you feel incredible!”

“Dearest…” He landed harder onto Crowley’s hips and panted with every move. The tip of his cock was fully hitting his prostate and a chill came over him as he felt his climax grow.

“Oh, Crowley! I’m coming!”

Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s hips and met his bouncing with his thrusts. The sound of slapping skin echoed in the bedroom and they both grunted.

Aziraphale gasped and his cock spilled over with come, squirting drops down his shaft.

“You look so bloody beautiful on top of me.” Crowley reached up with one hand and stroked his cheek. “I’m very close, angel. Are you alright?”

Aziraphale bit his lip and nodded as he whimpered, and he leaned back as Crowley’s hips once again belted into him

“Ahh, ssshit, here it comes, darling! Oh.... _ oh _ !” He craned his neck and roared as he came hard, shooting his load into Aziraphale’s tightness.

Aziraphale leaned in and kissed him again as his orgasm subsided and then he carefully climbed off of him and collapsed onto his back beside him.

They didn’t speak. Instead, they lay side by side, Crowley’s fingers stroking the back of Aziraphale’s hand as they both recovered their breathing.

Aziraphale then waved his hand and their mess was instantly cleaned. He rolled onto his side and laid his head on Crowley’s chest.

“That was sensational, dear,” he said against his skin. “You were wonderful.”

“Not bad for my first time, eh?” Crowley joked.

“Oh, you.” He kissed his shoulder. “You’re amazing, darling, no matter how we make love.”

“It was very nice. Different...but nice.”

“Would you do it again?”

Crowley sighed and thought. “Well, if you wanted me to. But to be honest, I prefer---”

“I know, dear.” Aziraphale smiled and kissed him.

“Also, I’m exhausted!”

“You don’t say?” Aziraphale giggled.

Crowley stroked his brow. “I’ll fix your nightshirt.”

“Mm, it can wait till morning.”

He snuggled into his side and Crowley rested his head against his, both of them closing their eyes.

After a few minutes, Aziraphale opened them again and smirked. “Hm.”

Crowley, his eyes still closed, asked, “What is it, angel?”

“I’m suddenly craving something sweet.”

“Not really alarming news, darling.”

Aziraphale squeezed him. “I just realized we didn’t make any dessert to follow your delicious pasta.”

Crowley finally opened his eyes. “I’m really not in the baking mood, love.”

“I wasn’t saying you should bake anything now.

“Well,  _ I  _ just realized that you never did have any hot cocoa today.”

“I didn’t?” 

“No, remember? You were busy being embarrassed by your sex collection.”

Aziraphale huffed and caressed Crowley’s chest. “You know, dear, I found those books before you and I became...well--”

“Serious?”

“Yes, and I was lonely. One can only read so much philosophy and history that it starts to get rather boring. Those books helped me pass the night.”

Crowley grinned. “I can see how, too.”

“The only reason I haven’t read those books in a while is because I have you.” 

“I don’t mind if you read them, angel,” Crowley said. “They’re yours. Anyway, they’d make great bedtime stories.”

“I’m  _ not _ reading them to you.”

“But you reenact them so well!”

“Are you going to make my cocoa or not? You do owe it to me for nosing around my sex collection, after all.”

Crowley sighed and got out of bed to put on his dressing gown. “Of course I’ll make your cocoa. I’m doing all the servicing tonight anyways.”

“Marshmallows too, please, while you’re at it.”

“Yes, my Lord Fell!” Crowley yelled from the hallway as he walked to the kitchen.


End file.
